


Cynosure

by NekoAisu



Series: Inspired by Art [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Fluff, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Police Officer Yuuri Katsuki - Freeform, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 04:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10403619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/NekoAisu
Summary: Viktor hadn't expected to meet a cute boy the same day he got his ass kicked. He also hadn't expected said cute boy to be a police officer. Unfortunately for Yuri, no amount of cussing and actual logical arguments stopped Viktor from asking the officer out to dinner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired (and generally guided) by an amazing AU created by the one and only Crimson-Chains. Check out the fabulous artwork here: https://crimson-chains.tumblr.com/tagged/Mafia-AU
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Viktor was an absolute mess. Sure, the neat glass of scotch was helping, but that didn't erase the growth of jitters in his stomach. Viktor was horribly charmed, devastated, and more than a little captivated. He loved it. 

He hadn't anticipated getting mugged in the early hours of the morning, if his apparent lack of weaponry was anything to go by. Viktor was a cautious man, managing all his affairs, both sexual and business-related, with an almost obsessive level of care. He had secured a large territory, talented underlings, and a rather large earful from Yakov whenever he so much as breathed wrong in the presence of others. He had been steadily gaining traction in the underground to the point where he thought it would be a good idea to walk back unarmed. There was little to no chance he would be attacked now. After all, it was all under his jurisdiction- Viktor refused to say control. It sounded positively  _evil -_ and he was quite skilled in hand to hand combat if it really came down to that. His only problem was the sudden uppercut to his nose by some random passerby. 

He had promptly knocked the person into an alleyway and, a short scuffle later, Viktor left. Viktor had a flair for the dramatic, but really didn't want to snap any bones today, instead making a show of stalking off towards the mouth of the alley while the idiot scuttled away. He promptly crashed into someone, sun too bright to adjust to before the collision. The pavement met his ass a bit too hard for comfort. 

He sputtered slightly, wincing at the ache now coming from his tailbone. Viktor blinked a couple times, disoriented and pissed off. Well, pissed off until he focused properly on whatever was cutting the sun out of his eyes. He then promptly just about asked someone to marry him before the first date.  _Nice going, Nikiforov, crashing into the only cute boy this week._

"Are you okay, sir?" An officer peered down at him, kneeling with a handkerchief extended toward him. He was absolutely, positively gorgeous. Viktor was awestruck. He didn't notice the blood pouring from his nose until his jaw dropped open and his mind sang praises of this unknown man. He was surely an angel. Nobody would be that pure and not come from heaven. He barely noticed when the officer repeated himself, "Sir? Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Viktor shook off the haze with a smile even as the taste of blood became a bit more apparent. 

"I'm fine!" He made to sit up properly and collect himself only to have the officer press the kerchief to his nose with a gentle hand. 

"I would suggest you stop that nosebleed before moving around, sir." He gave a nervous smile, as if the action was far too forward. Viktor screamed internally. 

_Can we get married? I mean... right now? You're really cute and I'm convinced you're an angel._

The officer laughed, then. It was bright and musical in tone. Viktor realized only then that he had been mumbling. He fought the urge to actually scream. "Are you sure you're not concussed? As much as I love compliments, it's quite difficult to take them seriously from people with blood covering their faces."

Viktor snatched up the handkerchief quickly thereafter, wiping the still-wet blood from his face before standing in a flurry of limbs and thanking the man. No amount of experience running his own operation and dealing with gorgeous opponents prepared him for this. He stuttered when taking his leave, kerchief pressed to his nose to stem the flow even as he spoke through the fabric. "T-thank you! I'll return this tomorrow!" He had never been more excited to deal with cops in his whole life. He had also never been more embarrassed by one.

Yuri told him to shut up about it and give up before the story was even over. The blonde was quite the character and intensely loyal to the group. He was also horribly distrustful of the police. Yeah, Viktor definitely had some of them on payroll, but the one he ran into today was not one of them. "Did you even get his name?"

 _Oh._ "No. I didn't, actually." 

"How stupid are you, old man? You want to ask someone out on a date without even knowing their name- and an  _officer of the law_ , no less -and you tell me I'm too impulsive? Keep it in your pants sometimes, damn it." Yuri was snappish and seemed almost ready to explode if Viktor so much as said the wrong thing. Viktor finished his glass in reply and poured another one.

"How should I seduce him? A dinner? Gifts?" He took a sip, reveling in the burn of the alcohol on his tongue.

Yuri growled, "How about I chop you up and give you to him then?"

"That's not nice, Yuri! Why do you hate me after all I did for you?" He got up and downed the rest of his drink before gathering his jacket and leaving the lounge. "I'll see you after the date!" It wouldn't do to get mauled by an angry teen when trying to look dashing. It was time to leave and let lie. Viktor tried to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback me, please!


End file.
